I hadn't even read half the book when I realized that this would likely be one of my favorite novels of all time. It is brilliant. A masterpiece. Monumental. All overused words in book reviews, but totally apt descriptors for this brilliant, monumental masterpiece by Kent Haruf.

Taking place in the fictional rural setting of Holt, Colorado, this is the story of several people who have one thing in common: They are all emotionally damaged, but through their interactions with each other they achieve a level of healing.
--High school history teacher Tom Guthrie is the father of two boys, Ike and Bobby who are 10 and 9 years old respectively. His wife, Ella, has retreated to the guest room where she sleeps all day and all night and eventually leaves the family entirely.
--Victoria Roubideaux is 17 and pregnant by a young man she met the previous summer. She has no idea where he is now. And things get complicated very quickly when her mother kicks her out of their house.
--Raymond and Harold McPheron are elderly brothers who live 17 miles out of town on a cattle ranch. Orphaned at a young age, the two have always lived together and neither ever married.
--Maggie Jones is a high school teacher who has a knack for helping others just when they need it most. But will she ever find happiness of her own?

The astonishingly spare and sparse prose in which the novel is written reflects the spare and sparse landscape of Holt. It's almost as if the writing style allows the reader to vicariously become a part of the setting. But at the same time, the writing is incredibly descriptive from an old screen door to the sight of oncoming headlights to the look of faded wallpaper. Brilliant. Monumental. A masterpiece.

This exquisite work of literature is also a compelling story with a finely rendered plot and characters that simply pop off the page they are so real and vivid. In many ways, this may be the Great American Novel—or at least in the top 10.

Just an afterthought: "Plainsong" was a finalist in 1999 for the National Book Award. Only a finalist? When I realized this, I immediately Googled to find out that year's winner. It was "Waiting" by Ha Jin, which I have read. Here are the opening lines of my review of "Waiting": On the one hand, this is a literary masterpiece, a political allegory, and a love story that won the 1999 National Book Award for Fiction, the 2000 PEN/Faulkner Award, and was a finalist for the 2000 Pulitzer Prize. On the other hand, the title is quite apt. The reader will be kept waiting…and waiting…and waiting for something to happen. It doesn't. This is a relatively short book that feels quite long.

"Plainsong" is better, in my opinion. Much, much better.

Bonus: This is the first in a three-part series, so the story doesn't end here. Yay!

I felt like I was looking in a mirror when I read this book. It is spookily close to my life story. Because of that resonance I found it to be powerful, heartbreaking, and healing, but I can't begin to fathom if this would be something most readers would also experience.

Magnificently written by Tara Conklin, this is the story of four siblings—Renee, Joe, Caroline, and Fiona Skinner. When they are still very young, their father dies suddenly of a heart attack. Their mother retreats to her bed with a debilitating depression—for three years. Still a child herself, Renee becomes the defacto mom, cooking dinner, doing laundry, reading bedtime stories. Joe tries to become the man of the family, Caroline suffers recurrent nightmares, and Fiona, at age five, is just confused. They call this time The Pause. Eventually it ends. The kids grow up. And when they are adults, one of the four of them dies. The book, which is narrated by grown-up Fiona, is not only the story of their childhood, but also the effect these two traumas had on each of them, the people they become, and most of all who they choose to love. Because more than anything, this is a love story. A family love story.

This book has it all: a well-developed, page-turning plot coupled with vivid, pop-off-the-page characters. Parts of it are hilarious, and parts of it made me cry. Just like real life. It is witty, wise, and tender.

Bonus: At the beginning of the third chapter there is a two-sentence description of female adolescence that is so perfect, so spot-on true that it will make all mothers who have or have ever had a 13-year-old daughter almost weep.

And I just want to say after my rather personal introduction to this review: My father died when I was seven, and one of my beloved sisters died more than a decade ago. But after my father's death, my mom never took to her bed. She will always be my hero for how she cared for my two sisters and me during a terrifying time.

This may be a perfect novel. The plot is compelling. The characters are painted with such vividness that they seem real. And the writing…oh my goodness. The writing sings. It is beautiful, lyrical, and poetry in prose. It's the kind of writing that demands to be reread.

This novel is a literary gift.

Written by Nathan Harris, this is the story of a beleaguered group of people living in rural Old Ox, Georgia just after the Civil War has ended.
• George and Isabelle Walker live on a large farm that they pretty much ignore. He is lazy, content to read, putter, and make occasional trips to town riding his trusty donkey, Ridley. She is quiet, reserved, and likes to be left alone.

• Caleb Walker and August Webler are best friends and brothers in arms in the war. But they are more than that. They are also secret lovers. August, who is the son of the town's richest man, returns to Old Ox without Caleb and with tragic news.

• Brothers Prentiss and Landry are slaves on a neighboring plantation who are set free thanks to the Emancipation Proclamation. When given the opportunity, they leave their abusive master. They simply walk away from the plantation where George soon finds them in the woods on his property.

It is when two things happen—George, Prentiss, and Landry strike up a friendship and unusual business arrangement, while Caleb and August's deepest secret is revealed—that the rules of society are tested to the breaking point. And it is quiet, reclusive Isabelle who figures out how to survive amidst horrific violence, vicious murder, and senseless destruction.

This is an extraordinary, elegiac historical novel that is often unsettling but always insightful as the old order crumbles, and no one quite knows how to make sense of the new one. Highly recommended.

It may be titled "Spring," but this is not a book about the blossoming of new love or reveling in Earth's colorful pastel rebirth. It is bleak and dark with just a smidgen of hope. It's also experimental in form—so much so that when I was about 35 pages into the book, I stopped reading and started over at page one, which made all the difference to understanding what was happening.

Written by Scottish author Ali Smith, this is the third in what the author describes as a seasonal quartet. Unlike virtually all book series, this one does not need to be read in order. Each book is totally independent of the others. If they weren't grouped together as a quartet, you wouldn't even know they were a series.

But one thing the books in this seasonal quartet do have in common is they are all stories interwoven with political discourse. (Some might even call it political diatribe.) "Spring" is focused on immigration issues in Britain, specifically how immigrants are treated once they arrive. Many are housed in Immigration Removal Centres (IRCs) where they are held indefinitely—like prisoners—even though they are only supposed to be detained for 72 hours.

This is a book about lost souls in a very divided Britain. Richard Lease is an aging TV and film director who hasn't worked in years. Paddy, the woman who taught him so much and served as his muse has died. He is devastated and suicidal so he decides to travel north from London to Scotland to send her off—at least in his mind. Meanwhile, Brittany Hall is off to her dreaded job at an IRC when a little girl named Florence waylays her and convinces her to go with her to Scotland. Florence is an unusual child to say the least. She has a nearly magical ability to charm everyone around her to give her things, allow her to accomplish the seemingly impossible, and basically just get her way. It is this child of 12 who saves Richard's life, and the three of them begin a journey that is rife with joy, sadness, and betrayal. But in the spring, there is always hope (even if it's just a smidgen)—for new life, for reconciliation, and for love.

Just as much as it's about immigration, it is also a book about the importance of stories—the ones we live, the ones we tell, the ones we read. English majors and avid readers will enjoy the frequent literary namedropping and almost cameo-like appearances of short story writer Katherine Mansfield and poet Rainer Maria Rilke, as well as silent film star Charlie Chaplin and British visual artist Tacita Dean.

At times, the minimal plot of the book can be confusing as it bounces around in time. It didn't keep me reading past my bedtime. But it's an interesting way to frame the dire human concern of immigration and what happens to real people in real ways that are alarming, frightening, and abusive.

It may be somewhat difficult to read, but this is a book that will make you think.

This book by Laurie Frankel is a lot of contradictory things:
-- It's billed as a novel for grown-ups, but it should be shelved in the young adult section.
-- It's a riveting story, but it goes on far too long, spoiling something that started out really good.
-- I wanted to love it because "This Is How It Always Is," also by Laurie Frankel, is one of my favorite books of all time, but I just couldn't love it that much.

This is the story of three sisters, 16-year-old triplets Mab, Monday, and Mirabel. They call each other One, Two, and Three based on their birth order and the number of syllables in their names. This is also the story of their town, Bourne, where 17 years ago a chemical company poisoned the town's water and the residents. Many, many of them died, including the triplets' father, many got cancer, and most of the children were born with birth defects. While Mab is considered "normal," Monday is autistic, and Mirabel, while brilliant, was born physically deformed with only her right arm and hand fully functioning, leaving her unable to walk or talk. Why not move away? Their mother, Nora, is mad. So very, very angry. And she spends her life, when she's not caring for her daughters or working one of her three jobs, fighting the chemical company and seeking restitution for the little town of Bourne. It truly is her purpose in life.

Then, quite suddenly, everything changes in this place almost everyone else forgot about.

This is the story of what can go disastrously wrong when unscrupulous, uncaring people are in charge and then get away with it. It's well researched in terms of science and law, so the novel feels authentic. We're all rooting for the underdogs here, and while the ups and downs, the incessant legal wrangling, and evidence sleuthing are at first fascinating, it all just goes on way too long. What Frankel tries to do is build the story to a climax we'll never forget, but unfortunately the result falls flat like a balloon after all the air has leaked out—and it's only because it took too long to get there.

Still, this novel is very well-written, as well as imaginatively written, with each chapter titled "One, "Two," or "Three" and told from the point of view and in the distinct first-person voices of Mab, Monday, or Mirabel. It's a clever writing ploy, and it works really well. Unfortunately, it's just not enough to pull the story out of the mire into which it eventually sinks.

A lovely bonus: This book is a love letter to libraries and librarians, while it also gives a tip of the hat to vocabulary words learned well and used appropriately in conversation.

This book is so much more than a story about flowers. This is a book about what it means to love a child and the truly horrible things that happen to a child who is not loved—not enough food, no proper clothing, and worst of all, no self-esteem or confidence.

This is a story that broke my heart and then made it soar.

Abandoned at birth, Victoria Jones grows up in the San Francisco foster care system where she is shuttled from family to family. Each change makes her more bitter, more callous, more untrusting, more violent, more uncaring. After all, why should she care about anyone if no one cares for her? When she is nine years old, Victoria is placed with a single woman named Elizabeth, who owns a sprawling vineyard. It is here that Victoria learns not only how to love and be loved, but also about flowers. She is fascinated that every flower from an abutilon (meditation) to a zinna (I mourn your absence) has a special meaning, according to the Victorian language of flowers. (So when a gentleman gives a lady a rose, the color matters. For example, a red rose means love, but a yellow rose means infidelity.)

Beautifully written with candor and compassion by Vanessa Diffenbaugh, the book's chapters alternate between Victoria's troubled childhood and her equally troubled present when she has turned 18 and aged out of the foster care system. Without any education and no one who cares for her, she relies on her wits, her street sense, and her innate love of flowers to make her way in the world. But how can she truly be happy if she doesn't learn how to love—and be loved in return?

The intricate, overlapping plot line between past and present is brilliantly developed, and the characters are so real—all that is good, bad, and ugly about each one—that they just pop off the page. And while this is a difficult book emotionally to read at times, it is an important story that must be told.

Best of all, it's just a really good read. This poignant, thoughtful, and insightful book will keep you reading far past your bedtime.

Bonus: There is a lovely dictionary of flowers at the end of the book. Look up your favorites or get creative and plan a bouquet or even a garden based only on the flowers' meaning.

Brilliant! Simply brilliant! Exquisitely written by Sarah Waters in a highly creative and imaginative format—going backward in time instead of forward—this is a World War II story about the British home front and a group of young women who are trying to make a life for themselves as the bombs fall nightly on London.

Kay, courageous and stalwart, drives an ambulance at night to rescue those whose homes and shelters have been blasted. Helen, softhearted and resolute, works in a British ministry office helping people navigate the bureaucracy after they have lost their homes. Viv, who is having an affair with a married man, is the backbone of her family after her brother, Duncan, is sent to prison. Julia, a writer of murder mysteries, is tough but tender, and causes all sorts of mischief and havoc. Most—but not all—of the women have one thing in common: They are lesbians, falling in and out of love with each other in a time of great national horror.

The storyline is one that pulls you in and won't let go. It's emotionally riveting, packed with historical details, unnerving at times and spellbinding at others.

But it is the literary ploy of going backward in time that makes this book so special. It is written in three parts: 1947, 1944, and 1941. Within each of these parts, the plot moves forward, but when we read the second and third parts, we already know what is going to happen, much like seeing into the future. Still, we don't really because we don't know how it started in the first place, and herein lies the tension—and genius—of the book.

I became utterly engrossed in the novel because I cared so deeply for the characters. I wanted to know the motivations behind their successes and failures, what gave them joy and sorrow, and how it was they managed to still be happy in a time of great tragedy and fear.

This book is absolutely brilliant! Highly recommended.

This is a political message disguised as a novel and delivered with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

And you can almost choose your favorite cause because they're all here: racism, sexism, environmental rights, rich vs. poor, suburban sprawl, the role of women in society, and teen sex/hook-up culture.

Written by Therese Anne Fowler, this is the story of two very different families who must coexist as neighbors. Valerie Alston-Holt, a black college professor, and her biracial and uber-talented son, Xavier, live in Oak Knoll, a quiet and established suburb of a major North Carolina city. Their home is modest: a three-bedroom, one bath model built in the 1950s. Growing in the backyard is a century-old massive oak tree, which Valerie loves like other people love their dogs. But all is not well. The small house behind them has been razed, all the old trees cut down, and a showcase McMansion with an inground pool has been constructed. The Whitmans—Brad, Julia, Juniper, and Lily—move in. Both families have their backstories, albeit very stereotypical and one-dimensional. When the oak tree shows serious signs of distress and decay, caused by the disruption of its root system from the house construction, relations between the neighbors rapidly deteriorate. Adding to the tension is the developing love relationship—from simple flirting to a whole lot more—between Xavier and Juniper. He is a graduating high school senior headed to the prestigious San Francisco Conservatory of Music, while she, who harbors a deep, dark secret, is one year younger and a white Evangelical Christian.

What I liked: The form of the novel appears to mimic a Greek tragedy, complete with the omniscient, third-person chorus chiming in (a lot!) to offer "off stage" comments and background information. This is a clever literary trick that works quite well.

What I didn't like: The novel's greatest defect is the writing. I expected more from Fowler. Much of the dialogue seems fake (who talks like that?), the plot is forced without flowing naturally, and some of the main characters are so superficial they come off as both unappealing and inauthentic. The bad guy is very, very bad, and the good guy is very, very good. No subtleties here.

I rolled my eyes so much while reading this novel that it's amazing I could keep them on the page long enough to finish it.

If a book were your favorite comfy sweater, this would be it. It's a slow, steady, and quietly fascinating read about the men and the very few women who were involved in the making of the venerable Oxford English Dictionary (OED).

It's also a book about linguistic inequality (although that makes it sound boring, and this book is the opposite of boring). If men write the dictionary, what happens to the words that define women?

Written by Pip Williams, this is the fictionalized story of Esme Nicoll, the motherless daughter of one of the top men writing/editing the OED in the late 1800s and early 1900s. Because she had no mother, Esme would accompany her father to work in the Scriptorium—a fancy name for what was actually a garden shed located on the property of the top editor, James Murray. Esme loved to sit under the massive work table, while above her head the men wrote words on slips of paper, each carefully measured to be six inches by four inches. One day a slip floats down to her spot under the table and lands on her lap. The word: bondmaid. She pockets it! (Fun fact: The word "bondmaid" was lost from the first edition of the OED, and no one knows how that actually happened.) Thus begins her passion for words and collecting them. As she grows older, Esme learns of words that might not be considered proper or polite, as well as words used only by the working class. Using the same kind of slips of paper, Esme collects these lost words as diligently as the men who are working on the OED.

Grounded in the fascinating facts of writing, editing, printing, and binding a reference tool that we still rely on more than a hundred years later, this captivating story of Esme's life from childhood to womanhood, is imaginative, tender, and filled with love and tragedy.

Williams has brilliantly captured a slice of history and made it come colorfully to life through Esme's story. You'll never look at any dictionary the same way again!

If you love words, you'll love this book.

This is the power of reading: It will take you places you can never go in real life. Exhibit A is this book.

This is a coming-of-age story about a nerdy and awkward 15-year-old, prep school-educated black boy, who is spending the summer of 1985 at his family's beach house in Sag Harbor, New York.

Written by Pulitzer Prize winner Colson Whitehead, this is the sometimes hilarious and always introspective story of Benji Cooper, the son of a podiatrist and corporate attorney who attends a tony Manhattan prep-school during the school year and lives in Sag Harbor in the summer in a community populated by black professionals. At age 15, he is straddling the line between childhood and adulthood, a line made ever the more clear when his parents essentially leave Benji and his younger brother, Reggie, alone at the beach house, coming out only on occasional weekends. The boys have friends, they get jobs, and they enjoy the beach. They have adventures—some intended and some thrust upon them. They get in a little trouble. They develop a taste for beer. From BB gun mishaps to flirting with girls to scooping ice cream, Benji grows up this summer. And he realizes something about his homelife that he tries to keep secret from everyone else.

The best part of this book is the writing. It is absolutely brilliant. Still, don't expect the plot to zip along. It doesn't. It crawls. Whitehead takes pages and pages to describe the smallest detail, and that's OK in his talented hands. But instead of an ongoing story with one thing building on another, this novel is more like a series of highly-connected short stories.

So just relax, pretend you're at the beach, and go along for the ride. I call shotgun!

Just an aside: This slice of ocean nirvana is real. Sag Harbor Hills, Azurest, and Ninevah Beach were founded after World War II as a summer retreat for black families that were not allowed at the beachfront resorts—a kind of refuge from racial strife, according to Wikipedia.

If you need a summer escape from the real world, just open this delightful book by Sarah Addison Allen. It’s the literary equivalent of a bundle of fresh, colorful flowers.

This novel is written in the genre of magical realism, so you must be able to suspend your belief (somewhat) in the natural order of things. Do that, and you are in for a treat!

At age 34, Claire Waverley is satisfied with her life. She may be lonely without many friends or family, but she can better shield herself from hurt this way. Everything changes one summer when two things happen almost at once: First, Tyler Hughes, a new art professor at the local college, moves into the house next door and immediately develops a passionate crush on Claire. Then Claire’s rebellious sister, Sydney, who has been away without any contact for a decade, shows up on Claire’s doorstep unannounced with a little girl of her own in tow. Claire can tell that they are running from something, but what? The Waverleys have long lived in this small town of Bascom, North Carolina, and most everyone agrees they are a bit odd. The garden in the back of the house, which has been in the family for generations, is shielded by a nine-foot fence. There is magic in this garden, including an apple tree that seems to know good from evil. Eat one of the apples, and you will see the biggest thing that will ever happen to you—and that’s not always a good thing.

More than anything, this is an enchanting love story infused with a touch of magic. It’s a true pleasure to read!

This is a story about the deep South. This is a story about the indelible bond and incredible courage of women. But most of all, this is a story about our shared humanity. This is a story that will stay with me for a long time.

Magnificently written by Deb Spera, this novel takes place in and near the swamps of South Carolina in the 1920s just after a boll weevil infestation destroyed the cotton crops and the livelihoods of countless people rich and poor. The book is written in the first person by three women:
--Annie is wife of a powerful man who has lost everything but quickly switches from growing cotton to tobacco on his plantation that still has empty slave cabins on the property.
--Gertrude is a poor, white woman with an abusive husband, four daughters, and no money.
--Retta is the black maid for Annie’s family. Happily married to Odell, the couple still grieve for the only child they lost when the little girl was eight years old.

The lives of these three women intersect in surprising ways, beginning when Retta rescues Gertrude and her daughters and takes them in, much to the disapproval of her black neighbors. But evil and dark, ugly secrets are lurking in the swamp and on the plantation, and when the three women figure out something so horrible, so wicked, so reprehensible, they have very different reactions as to how to tame it. Together, these women and mothers have a power they wouldn’t have alone.

The writing is brilliant with each woman’s voice so distinctive, so nuanced, so razor-sharp that the chapter headings listing the narrator’s name don’t even need to be there. You will know who it is by the style, which is quite a literary accomplishment.

Like the swamp around which the novel is set, this story will suck you in. The last third of the book is so compelling—actually, explosive—that it’s nearly impossible to stop reading. But the book is a tough one emotionally. The plot is unerring and relentless, exploring age-old taboos and physical abuse that hit me hard in the heart. Just know this going into it. A happy, carefree beach book it is not. Instead, it is emotionally searing. But isn’t that true of a lot of great works of literature?

This is an extraordinary book and one of the best I have read.

This book is a ChickLit escape read. Take it to the beach. Read it curled up in front of the fireplace during a snowstorm. It will keep you entertained for hours. But like most ChickLit, it’s all plot without the enduring depth of literature. That said, we all need books like this once in a while!

Written by Amber Brock, this is the story of Vera Longacre Bellington, a beautiful, charming, sophisticated young married woman who seemingly has it all—a handsome, wealthy husband, a penthouse apartment on New York’s exclusive Park Avenue, and so many servants she doesn’t ever lift a finger except to ring the bell. It’s the socialite life to which she was raised to live. So why is she so unhappy? Shifting back and forth in time between Vera’s senior year at Vassar in the fall of 1913 and 10 years later in 1923, this coming-of-age novel starts out a bit slow but soon picks up the pace as Vera, desperately hurt by her cold, inattentive husband, becomes enamored with a European artist hired to paint a mural on the walls of the apartment building’s subterranean pool. Will she risk everything she has for this passionate, illicit love? And what price will she pay if she is caught?

Not only is this book a wonderful dive into the roaring ‘20s among the super wealthy with lots of period details that make it all just pop, but also it’s a solid exploration of the high-end world of fine art. It’s obvious that Brock did her art history research, and this adds so much to the book—sort of like the difference between seeing a black-and-white photo of a painting vs. the real thing in color.

Kudos to the author on the title of the book, which is a clever play of words on several levels. Still, at its core this is ChickLit with a very well-crafted plot that boasts several clever twists (some of which are predictable if you’re paying attention) that will keep you engrossed in the story until the last page. It’s really quite entertaining!

It’s just an old cotton seed bag. But it is truly priceless.

Sometime in the 1850s, Rose, an enslaved woman in Charleston, South Carolina, gave the bag to her nine-year-old daughter, Ashley, on the eve of her being sold away from her family to another South Carolina plantation. It contained a tattered dress, three handfuls of pecans, a braid of Rose’s hair, and all her love. The two never saw each other again. But the story of little Ashley being ripped away from her mother and her mother’s attempt to make sure the child knew she would always be loved by giving her this sack of useful items and whispers of her kisses and hugs, is the premise of this exceptional book.

Written by Harvard historian Tiya Miles, this is an extraordinary testament to Black family love and history. In 1921, Ashley’s granddaughter, Ruth Middleton, who inherited the precious sack, embroidered fewer than five dozen words on it that told not only its history, but also the tragedy of slavery.

Without knowing anything more about the sack or the people who owned it, Miles has written a timeless book for the ages that tells its own chronicle of love, handiwork, and the power of story, all the while putting on full display the cruelty, degradation, and horror of what it meant to be a slave.

Miles quotes Civil War historian Stephen Berry as saying of the sack, "It is the world’s shortest slave narrative, stripped down to its essence, sent back to us through time like a message in a bottle."

Prodigiously researched and magnificently written, this book takes readers down the deep, dark hole of slavery with a special focus on what it meant to be an enslaved woman in South Carolina in the mid-1800s. While very little to almost nothing is recorded about Rose and Ashley, Miles uses the stories of other enslaved women who lived similar lives to illuminate what may have also been true for Rose and Ashley. And what Miles discovers about Ruth brought a smile to my face after all the tears.

A brilliant melding of the scholarly and the personal, this book is a masterpiece. It is impossible not to be deeply affected by it. Quite simply, this is essential reading.

Despite the title, this is a not a light and romantic romp at the beach. This is a serious book about serious subjects—from the horrors of Nazi brutalities to the isolation of the Covid pandemic—but the story had me riveted.

Written by Ali Smith, this is the fourth in her seasonal quartet that officially begins with "Autumn: A Novel," but can be read in any order, since the stories are not related to each other. That said, I would advise—just for the fun of it—reading them during the season for which each is named. The author’s purpose for the four books is daunting: Each book is topical about current news events as they were happening when she was writing. (Novelists don’t do that! Except Ali Smith did. And pulled it off. Somehow.)

The barely-there plot begins in February 2020 just as people around the world are learning about a vicious and highly contagious virus. The story focuses on a handful of people—from a 13-year-old boy who is brilliant but somewhat delinquent to a 104-year-old man whose memories are more real to him than his daily existence. While the core of the story takes place in winter, many of the characters remember a summer that was special to them.

This is how it begins: On the beach in Brighton, Robert, age 13, does something truly mean and dangerous to his older sister, Sacha. Charlotte and Art (characters from "Winter"), who are wandering on the beach in the dead of winter, offer her assistance, accompanying her home. It is there that they meet the children’s mother, Grace, along with Robert (who hilariously falls madly in love with Charlotte), and the five of them—strangers who become like family—go on an unlikely journey together. From this barebones plot the story branches out so we learn the detailed backgrounds—some filled with joy, some with tragedy—of these and other characters. And the tie that binds these disparate people together is…summer.

Each of the four books in the series features a Shakespeare play, a Charles Dickens novel, and a contemporary artist. In "Summer," we have "A Winter’s Tale," "David Copperfield," and Italian filmmaker Lorenza Mazzetti. Yes, it’s an intellectual book about summer!

This final book in the seasonal quartet is far less political than "Autumn" (Brexit) and "Spring" (immigrants who are detained illegally) and more focused on the human psyche with characters so vivid, complex, and real that they just pop off the page.

The writing is exquisite, and it was this more than anything else, that kept me turning the pages. This book is a literary delight.

As much as this is the story of a marriage, it is even more a story of a bygone era when men were the ones who went to work, women were housewives, races and ethnicities lived in separate neighborhoods, and Dad’s word—no matter how unfair—ruled. This is a story that will take you back in time to a place that some still call "the good old days" even if they really weren’t.

Written by Pulitzer Prize-winning newspaper columnist Connie Schultz, this is the story of Brick and Ellie, high school sweethearts in 1957 who "have" to get married when Ellie gets pregnant before they even graduate. Both come from troubled backgrounds—Brick’s dad physically abuses him, while Ellie’s father abandoned her to her grandparents after his wife died. They find solace in each other. But the pregnancy changes everything when Brick must turn down a basketball scholarship to Kent State University, and Ellie gives up her dreams of nursing school. The novel spans nearly 40 years as Brick and Ellie build a life together that is sorely tested by mistakes big and small, infidelity, heartbreak, and seismic societal changes.

While this book is almost 500 pages long, it’s a fast read. The plot, filled with family secrets and tension, keeps the reader turning those pages. Yes, some of it is quite predictable and sometimes too much like a soap opera, but it’s still a captivating book that brilliantly captures the era.

One of the main "characters" is the setting of the fictional Northeast Ohio town of Erietown. If you’re a baby boomer who grew up in Northeast Ohio during the ‘50s, ‘60s and early ‘70s, you’ll enjoy the shoutouts to such favorites as children’s show hosts Barnaby and Captain Penny, Indians announcer Herb Score, Lawson’s convenience store and its famous French onion dip, Higbee’s department store in downtown Cleveland and its Silver Grille, CKLW radio station, lake effect snow, and Ohio heroes John and Annie Glenn.

This is the story of a bank robber who botches the job and then inadvertently takes eight people hostage, all of whom are viewing an apartment for sale in a small town in Sweden the day before New Year's Eve. It's also the story of the two police officers—a father and a son—who end the hostage siege and then investigate the crime. And there is a lot of bridge symbolism and imagery.

Except that's not it at all.

This is the story of all those people, all those troubled, hurting, anxious people who meet and share their stories and learn so much about themselves, each other, and the point of living together on this planet. THAT is what this book is really about. It should win an award for Most Heartwarming Book of the Year—without being all treacly and sweet. Instead, it's hilarious, so it could also win Funniest Book of the Year—without being filled with stupid jokes. (OK, maybe there are a few of those, but only a few!)

But there definitely are lots of bridge symbols and imagery, which elevates this from a fun novel to literature.

Written by the incredible Fredrik Backman, the story bounces back and forth in time over just a few hours on December 30. It is brilliantly plotted. And I mean that—it's brilliant. How Backman figured out this particular way to tell the story is a sign of his writing genius. It's one of those books that I kept saying to myself, "Just one more chapter…just one more chapter." And since the chapters are relatively short, this is the kind of thing that leads to hours in a reading chair.

Bonus: This book has the BEST ending. And by that I mean not the last sentence, not the last paragraph, not the last page, and not even the last chapter. It takes the last 44 pages for the ending to be fully told.

And if you have ever lost a loved one to suicide, as I have lost two, then this is a book that may just offer you a bit of hope and peace and respite as it did for me.

Read this book when you're feeling sad because it is packed with common sense life advice that will make you feel better. Read this book if you want to laugh because we all need to laugh. And definitely read this book if you want to know how NOT to rob a bank.

Actually, just read this book.

This a historical novel/family epic masquerading as the most creative collection of short stories I have ever read.

The premise: It is the summer of 1775 on the Gold Coast of West Africa. (The Gold Coast was a British Crown colony until its independence in 1957 when it became known as Ghana.) Effia and Esi are half-sisters, but they do not know of each other's existence. Effia catches the eye of James, a white British trader of slaves, who pays her parents a large bride price and takes his teenage bride from her forested village to the edge of the Atlantic Ocean to live in the Cape Coast Castle, the center of operations for his dirty work. Meanwhile, in a nearby village, Effia's half-sister Esi, is captured in a raid by slave traders where she, too, is taken to the castle. But her quarters are in the dungeon until she is thrown on a ship and transported to the United States to be sold into slavery in the South.

This incredibly imaginative book by Yaa Gyasi follows generation by generation the descendants of the privileged Effia, who remain in Africa as royalty but still living in slavery's horrible shadow and its evil ramifications, as well as the descendants of the American slave Esi, who live a life filled with cruelty, hardship, toil, and discrimination. Each chapter is titled with the name of a person, and the narrative in that chapter not only moves the story forward, but also ties up the loose ends in previous chapters. The final two chapters, taking place in the current day, circle back and bring the story to a marvelous close.

The writing is magnificent, drawing in the reader completely. The images Gyasi paints with her words seem so real I could almost reach out and touch them.

This a fierce, unflinching, and absolutely triumphant novel that becomes a personalized history of Africans and African-Americans told in a way that will sear your heart and soul. It's impossible to read this book and not be greatly affected by it.

It could happen! Well, maybe. OK, never. But that doesn't mean this book—a summer ChickLit delight—won't tug at your heartstrings and make you smile. It is an endearing novel about the tragedy of death, the anguish of grief, and the power of love to heal. And it's partly narrated by an octopus.

Written by Shelby Van Pelt, this is the story of Tova Sullivan, a 70-year-old woman whose husband died a few years ago and whose son died under mysterious circumstances some 30 years ago. To keep herself from drowning in grief, Tova takes a job—just to keep busy—cleaning the Sowell Bay, Washington aquarium at night. Tova loves to clean! While she often talks to the aquarium's diverse creatures while she's polishing the glass of their displays, it isn't long before she realizes that Marcellus, the aging, cantankerous giant Pacific octopus, is talking right back to her—well, in his own octopus way. Yes, Marcellus is a most unusual creature.

Meanwhile, we also meet Cameron Cassmore of Modesto, California, a 30-year-old who was abandoned at age 9 by his mother to live with his Aunt Jeanne. Cameron has no idea who is father is, and there is a persistent heartache and resentment for both these losses. One day, Cameron thinks he figures out his dad's identity, and if he's right this could change his life. The man is a millionaire. Cameron sets out to find him.

The two stories meet in a somewhat predictable but quite delightful way. This is a tender, almost magical novel that explores both the perils and wonders of what it truly means to grow up, as well as to grow old.

Bonus: You'll learn a lot of fun facts to know and tell about octopuses.

The best way to describe this unusual novel by Elisabeth Thomas is: Peculiar. It's strange, odd, and weird. It's also creepy and eerie.

This Gothic mystery, thriller, coming-of-age novel is both a page-turner and a slog. How can it be both? The twisted, mysterious, and very dark plot makes it tempting to binge-read the book, but the novel just drags on and on and on.

It takes the first 60 pages to set up the story, so if you're the kind of reader who gives a book 50 pages and then calls it quits if it's not enticing enough, don't bother with this one. Then it takes the next 60 pages for something to really happen. Eventually, it picks up quite a bit, but it can still get bogged down in parts and then crawl to a sloooooow read before picking up again. Where was the publisher's editor in all this?

The twisted, mysterious, and dark plot: Catherine House is an elite college nestled in the woods of a small town in Pennsylvania. Students study there for three years, including the summers. Every student is given a full ride with absolutely no expenses. Sound good? There are also the creepy requirements and rules that all students must obey: The college is walled in by a fence. No one may leave. Students are totally isolated from the outside world—no news, no music, no phone calls. They may not have any contact whatsoever with family or friends until after graduation. They can't even wear their own clothing; the college provides everything they will need from jeans and white T-shirts to shampoo. But this is no convent or monastery. The college encourages students to drink LOTS of wine (all provided free) and to have rampant casual sex and out-of-control parties. An initiation and weekly "sessions" make this very much a cult-like experience. The academic work is rigorous in all disciplines, but this is especially so in the "new materials" concentration, where faculty and students are experimenting with a substance called plasm. This mysterious material can heal physical wounds and psychic disorders. But something nefarious, sinister, and top secret is going on in those labs. The main character is Ines Murillo, a mediocre, lazy student concentrating in art history. After the unexplained death of her roommate and other weird things she notices, Ines tries to crack the mystery of the plasm labs.

With more astute editing to create a more succinct storyline, this novel could have been far better. It's a shame it's not.